


A Desperate Kind Of Morning

by bardlingb



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Desperation, M/M, My First Work in This Fandom, No beta we die like stregobor should have, Not Canon Compliant, Omorashi, Piss kink, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Under-negotiated Kink, Watersports, Wetting, duh - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:07:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27640468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bardlingb/pseuds/bardlingb
Summary: 'Fuck I need to piss’ Jaskier murmurs, rolling onto his back with a sigh. He winces as Geralt runs his hand softly over his distended abdomen with the hand that was previously opening him up. Geralt latches onto Jaskier’s neck with his mouth, kissing and suckling skin - ‘You can hold it until we are done, can’t you?’-Basically a self-indulgent piss fic based on a kinktober art by @ThirstyOpossum on twitter
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 10
Kudos: 145





	A Desperate Kind Of Morning

As Jaskier slowly comes to consciousness, he can feel the warmth of his Witcher at his back, softly running his hands over his body. Jaskier feels warm and safe and loved but most of all he feels a tightness and heat within himself, and his chubbed up cocked between his legs. He can feel the bulge of Witcher’s package pressed against his ass. He can feel the soft breaths of a sleepy Geralt on the back of his neck. He can feel how Geralt is pressed against his back with not even a small measurement of room between them. Jaskier can feel how he’s slowly and softly grinding his hard erection against Jaskier’s ass, sliding between his cheeks - hole still a little loose and wet from the night before. He can feel how heavy his cock is already feeling between his thighs, obviously the teasing before he woke up was affecting him without him noticing. Finally, he can feel the taught stretch of his abdomen, the tightness behind his pubic bone, the evidence of the full bottle of Everluce that he helped Geralt finish last night.

Jaskier groans as he rolls over and buries his face into Geralt’s throat. ‘I don't want to get up’. He hears Geralt chuckle as it rumbles through his chest and feels him press kisses into the bard’s hair. Geralt’s hands slide down between his ass cheeks, tracing the wet rim which pulls a breathless gasp and a buck from Jaskier’s hips. They shift so that their mouths press together, lazy soft kisses passed between them that quickly progresses to heavy breathing and swallowed moans as they grind together, pressing their cocks against each other whilst Geralt slowly opens him up using only the left over fluid from the night before and spit that he regularly collects from his own mouth. As their cocks fill and grinding becomes more desperate, Jaskier notices just how desperate his bladder is becoming – whimpering into Geralt’s throat and pushing back on the fingers in his ass.

‘Fuck I need to piss’ Jaskier murmurs, rolling onto his back with a sigh. He winces as Geralt runs his hand softly over his distended abdomen with the hand that was previously opening him up. Geralt latches onto Jaskier’s neck with his mouth, kissing and suckling skin - ‘You can hold it until we are done, can’t you?’ he grunts into Jaskier’s neck, grinding against Jaskier’s hip as he grabs hold of the bard’s cock which is already leaking with precome. At this Jaskier groans and prays to Melitele that he can hold it. A spasm goes through his bladder which makes him moan and clench all of his muscles, squeezing his eyes shut as a shudder overtakes his body. A purring deep growl comes from deep in Geralt’s chest in response that Jaskier can feel echo down to his groin where his cock throbs in Geralt’s hand. 

Geralt tugs softly at the cock in his hand a few times before squeezing tightly at the base. Sitting up and settling in between Jaskier’s raised knees, he runs his hands up and down the prone man’s thighs. He leans down to press a soft kiss to Jaskier’s lips - the position forcing their cocks in between them and the pressure of Geralt leaning over the top of him causes a shiver to run through Jaskier. Geralt’s pupils, already impossibly wide, shiver and if possible, get even bigger at that. Eagerly grabbing the vial of oil off the bedside table with one hand while the other lightly runs up and down the others flank, teasing nipples and hip bones and leaving goose bumps in its wake. Jaskier whines high in the back of his throat, cutting himself off when he hears the oil’s top pop off and a wet hand is heard rubbing over skin, Geralt’s cock. He breathes out deeply in preparation feeling the wet head of Geralt’s cock touch the loosened muscles of his asshole, but he is unprepared for the fullness and the pressure of Geralt’s cock pushing into him while he is desperately full of urine. 

Geralt can barely hear Jaskier’s whining and groaning past his own heavy breathing and blood rushing past his ears, each breath in filled with the rich scent of Jaskier’s lust want and desperation. Geralt could tell just how full Jaskier’s bladder was before the man below him had even woken up and noticed. He knew how tight Jaskier would be - holding his pelvic muscles taut as to not spill over as Geralt pushes in.  
At this point Jaskier is panting. He is clenching all of the muscles below his diaphragm and angling his hips up - forcing Geralt into a kneeling position in an attempt to avoid pressure on Jaskier’s bladder. Geralt is overwhelmed with how good this feels, he has never had something this tight and wet around his cock before. There’s a deep purr emanating from Geralt’s chest, a possessive growl that originating from his inner wolf: claiming mate, claiming that this hole is his to fuck and he will never have a better hole to fill. 

Jaskier is getting closer and closer to the edge - the precipice of both his orgasm and the end of his control of his bladder. With a desperate whine he shoves a hand between them, pinching the tip of his engorged cock with his first two fingers and thumb - squeezing in a desperate attempt to stop the thin liquid that he can feel making its way up the shaft. It’s no use as the piss escapes anyway, dripping and beading off of the head and trickling its way down over his fingers, down towards the base where it starts a small puddle within his pubic hair. Geralt can sense Jaskier’s suffering by the clenched face and the open mouth panting and whining that is coming from the bard, his smirk growing wider and he takes a hand from where he has them wrapped around behind Jaskier’s knees and drags it down his thigh, resting it palm down and lightly pressing on the distended abdomen under him. Jaskier’s eyes shoot open as he yelps, letting more than a little dribble out from between his fingertips.

A small spurt arches from his thick swollen cock, landing just above his navel. They both pause, breathing heavily as they peer down at the piss on Jaskier’s chest and then their eyes lock onto each other’s. Geralt’s smirk has grown into a wolffish grin, enjoying every second of Jaskier’s attempt to stave off his impending doom. He starts up thrusting again, deeper and deeper, harder and pushing roughly on Jaskier’s bladder. Jaskier overwhelmed, arching his back and on the edge of it all finally concedes - letting go of his cock and covering his eyes with his forearm. 

At this peak of desperate rutting and the combination of pressure from Geralt’s hand and the cock in his ass pushing on both his prostate and the back of his bladder - Jaskier begins to loosen his muscles and lets go. Geralt barely slows down as small spurts erupt from Jaskier’s cock, leaving a light yellow puddle forming on Jaskier’s flat stomach, cascading down his sides onto the sheets below. This stuttered stream continues for a minute or so before it transitions to becoming almost white and thicker, the feeling of euphoria lasting throughout this release. Geralt gives a final few thrusts, let’s out a deep groan, throws his head back, and comes deep inside the bard’s hole filling him up with more and more cum.

Jaskier feels like he’s been punched in the navel by the Witcher - the muscles sore from holding in his bladder and from the semi-regular spasming that occurred during his extended release. Geralt comes back to himself, blinking harshly and peering down at the mess that they have both made - wet patches on the bed either side of Jaskier from piss, and the cum that is leaking out from the lose hole beside his cock. Geralt breathes deeply, taking in the warm contentment mixed with the spicy smell of embarrassment arising from the man below him, combining with the deep aroma of fresh urine that is seeping into the blankets below them. He sighs in finality, pulling out and heading over to the basin of water near the window with a few pieces of linen that he’s snatched from his bags nearby. 

Wiping himself down before bringing over multiple damp scraps to clean Jaskier, he sits on the side of the bed peering down at the red-faced bard who has still not emerged from behind his forearm. ‘Was that okay?’ Geralt murmurs delicately, carefully and softly wiping away most of the evidence of the morning’s affair. Jaskier reveals one eye that he peeks at Geralt with; catching a hysterical laugh in the back of his throat. He takes a big breath before sitting up to wrap around the Witcher, his arms around his waist and his legs around his hips. Still kind of damp from the sponging and sitting in a puddle of his own creation he buries his head in between Geralt’s shoulder blades, in a small voice answering ‘I’m fine, it was fine - I just... hmmm. I never thought you would be into that’ he huffs into Geralt’s skin before continuing ‘I didn’t think I would be into that, but sweet fucking Melitele that was intense’ 

Jaskier can feel a content grumble from within Geralt’s chest, hear the mirth and content as it bubbles from the Witcher’s lips. ‘I could just smell your need and couldn’t help myself from denying you, your desperation is addictive’ Geralt grunts with a smirk on his face, bringing Jaskier’s hand from where it’s wrapped around his waist to his lips, kissing over the other’s knuckles. ‘Mmmm, let me go down and call a bath and perhaps we can discuss how to have a repeat in the future… maybe without the clean-up,’ he grunts as he stands and puts on his clothes before leaving Jaskier with a kiss to the forehead and takes the soiled top blankets with him down to the laundry. Jaskier lays back, still wary from the morning wake up and the mind-blowing sex - daydreaming about how Geralt may look desperate and whining for a piss. He bites his lip and sighs, excited with the prospects of a new kink he cannot wait to explore with his Witcher.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic that I have written this decade so don't be too harsh. Also let me know if you find any mistakes/have trouble with pronoun usage (I struggled so bad with making sure you knew who was doing what). All comments are welcome!


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